


Shadows Passing

by CannedBread



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannedBread/pseuds/CannedBread
Relationships: Avad/Ersa (Horizon: Zero Dawn)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Shadows Passing

As always, Avad woke with the sun.

Most mornings in Meridian, the sun’s awakening was fierce and blinding. As bright from the first as it would remain to the last moments of sunset. Casting down its heat and unrelenting judgement on the Carja. Unchanging, unstoppable, their one true constant. But this morning was one of the rare days of cloud and rain. Keeping the Sun behind a veil of grey and damp.

 _Fitting,_ he thought to himself.

The vast doorway that consumed most of the exterior wall of his rooms opened on to his private balcony. Built to greet the morning sun in grandest fashion. But as he sat up on his bed, the only thing he had to greet was the sound of raindrops pattering on the stone outside. The grandness faded in the dim light and looked to Avad more like ostentatious posturing. His cavernous room, less a symbol of power and more a tomb where he lay alone. As his eyes rolled over the familiar landscape of his private life, bile rose in his throat.

Had he slept at all? The way the exhaustion settled in to his bones, he thought it impossible that he had. But the bed offered little comfort. The silk of his sheets felt uncomfortably cold and no amount of pillows could make the space feel any less empty.

Avad rose in silence. Bare feet hardly a whisper on the stone, carrying him out to look over his land. The cool rain stole the place of the warm sun he was accustomed to basking in each morning but, for once, he was grateful. Each drop was like ice on his skin, keeping him present and focused. _Else,_ he thought, _I may simply drift away._

Breakfast awaited him once he’d covered himself in his robe, back in from the dreary morning. The food looked as well prepared as it did each day, but the smell turned his stomach. He took the steaming cup of tea instead. The bitter herbs, he hoped, would calm him. Sitting where he could watch the rain, his hand wrapped around the warmth of the cup. His eyes slid closed and he imagined it radiating out in to himself. But the warmth stopped short of his forearms, unable to reach his heart.

_I am the Sun. The fire. The light._

Perhaps it had been true. Perhaps it would be again. But not that morning. That morning the cold had taken hold of his soul and all but snuffed out the great fire that burned within him.

Each piece of his morning felt like a ritual. Done less for want and all for duty. The Sun King must rise. The Sun King must dress. The Sun King must present himself for his people. That is his duty. Avad, however, simply wore the mask of the Sun King. That man was another. Someone he had no desire to be. Not today. Not that his wishes could keep the mummer’s farce at bay.

_The show must go on._

The halls of the palace felt as empty as his own rooms had been. He walked them like a ghost, moving more to avoid conversation than anything. Courtiers would have requests. Advisors would have meetings. All of them would have questions. Avad wasn’t interested in any of it. So he walked. Down corridors he’d barely known existed. Through doors he’d never paid any mind to before. Trying to lose himself in the maze of the palace as best he could.

But, eventually, he arrived in the room he’d been avoiding for a full day already.

The temple space was larger than any other room in the palace. Given to the glory of the Sun. The priests stood chanting, their melancholy song echoing off the high ceiling until it became an unearthly sound. The drone of it cut through Avad to his core. He stood in the doorway as it washed over him like a wave. The scent of incense was so strong it stung his eyes. Another small mercy, he could blame the smoke for the tears in his eyes.

With a word, the space cleared. Priests took their leave, the small number of early morning faithful following them as they went. Even the guards removed themselves.

It was a slow, painful walk from the doorway across the massive room. Each step took more power and focus than he’d thought possible. He could have turned and run, gone back to his rooms and forbid anyone from entering. He was the Sun King, after all. They had no right to deny him. But what sort of coward would he be then. Certainly no worthy man. So he forced one foot in front of the other again and again.

The shroud hid the worst of the damage, leaving just the silhouette of her face. It was a struggle to put aside what he’d seen when they had brought her back to him. To picture the face he’d known. His mind kept, unbidden, to her bruised and bloodied remains as he fought to contain a sob. The memories dragged it from him, clawing at his throat like a scrapper fighting all the way. The raw, animal noise echoed off the walls until it felt like the temple cried out with him. It took a few gulping breaths to stop another from following the first, unleashing a torrent of cries that clambered for freedom.

By the Sun, his crown felt heavy. A crown of lead that bent his neck and stooped his back. The weight of the world set upon his back to crush him into the dust. Every inch of it pressed down into his skin and made him want to scream himself hoarse.

_I am the Sun. The fire. The light._

None of it mattered though. Not really. How could any of it matter if he could not save the one he loved? What was a crown worth if it could not spare him this? What was any of it worth? Nothing. Not a damned thing.

The Sun’s judgement was to shine down on the wicked and expose them to the light, to burn away the evil of the world and light the path for righteous men. Walk in the light and you will be blessed by the Sun’s grace. Isn’t that what they’d taught? The priests with their grand words and their holy teachings. It amounted to nothing if the Sun’s light had not shone on her. Who else had ever been more radiant or deserving of the light?

His hand reached out and cupped her cheek. How many times had he done it before? Familiar and foreign at once. In his heart, he expected her warmth. The heat of her fire, burning hotter than any forge. The softness of her skin and the light in her eyes. His soul begged for it, screamed and cried for it until his chest ached so it was hard to breathe.

All it found was stoney cold.

The feel of it made him want to wretch. Even through the haze of the incense, Avad swore he could smell the death and rot. No matter how impossible, he felt it slithering down the back of his throat.

The strength left his legs and he sank to his knees. The mask he’d worn for the people slipped away, the facade of the Sun King vanished and left him bare. There was no Sun made flesh there. Only a man. A broken man kneeling on the cold hard floor, begging any god who would hear his prayer for a mercy far too late. The storm took hold of him and he was too weak to fight it. One cry and then another until his bones ached and his head pounded, until every muscle in his body cried out with him.

_The Sun may rise again, but its fire will never touch me as it once did. My guiding light has gone and the world is dark. How do I move forward without you?_

_Ersa…_


End file.
